


Meanwhile the World Goes On

by sahiya



Series: Quarantine 2020 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame? What Endgame?, Forgiveness, Gen, M/M, Not Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Science Boyfriends, Science Bros, Science Family, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23858122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahiya/pseuds/sahiya
Summary: Bruce had no idea what he would find when he finally returned to Earth, bruised and battered and exhausted. Two years was long enough for a lot to happen, and Bruce had long ago stopped trying to predict the future. Tony was the futurist, not him.He hoped that Tony was okay, more or less, and he expected that even if he was, he would sooner spit in his face than kiss him hello. Bruce could handle that. He deserved it, even.What he didn’t expect was the kid.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Peter Parker, Bruce Banner & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Bruce Banner/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Quarantine 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679149
Comments: 69
Kudos: 676
Collections: I love you 3000





	Meanwhile the World Goes On

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came out of a conversation about how there is lots of IronFam (Tony, Pepper, Morgan, and Peter) and a fair amount of Super Fam (Tony, Steve, and Peter) but not nearly enough Science Fam (Bruce, Tony, and Peter). So here it is. My intention is to write more in this universe, but my muse has been somewhat fickle under quarantine, so we'll see. 
> 
> Deepest apologies to May Parker, whom I adore.

You do not have to be good.  
You do not have to walk on your knees  
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.  
You only have to let the soft animal of your body  
love what it loves.  
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.  
Meanwhile the world goes on.  
––Mary Oliver, “The Wild Geese”

***

Bruce had no idea what he would find when he finally returned to Earth, bruised and battered and exhausted. Two years was long enough for a lot to happen, and Bruce had long ago stopped trying to predict the future. Tony was the futurist, not him. 

The only thing he dared to hope for was that Tony was alive and well. Bruce expected him to be furious and unforgiving; Bruce had essentially abandoned him, and even though Bruce himself had not been in control at the time, that didn’t mean it hadn’t done irrevocable damage. Tony had been abandoned a lot in his life, and Bruce knew it was one of his deepest, most closely-held fears––that everyone would leave him. 

Bruce had done that. Two years into their painfully slow relationship, he had simply disappeared. 

So he hoped that Tony was okay, more or less, and he expected that even if he was, he would sooner spit in his face than kiss him hello. Bruce could handle that. He deserved it, even.

What he didn’t expect was the kid. 

***

Nat had given him an address, but she’d also given him directions. The house was off the beaten path, she told him. Google Maps got it wrong every time. 

It was weird to think of Tony living so far outside the city. Tony had always loved the metronomic pace of the city, which Bruce had found unrelenting and stressful. He’d expected to find Tony at the tower, not in a house on a lake in upstate New York, twenty minutes from the nearest town. 

“You broke his heart, and then Steve broke it again,” Natasha had said, with her characteristic frankness. “He sold the tower and stayed here at the compound for a while, but I don’t think he was ever really comfortable once Steve and the others came back. He left about six months ago.”

“He’s up there by himself?” Bruce said incredulously. 

“Not quite,” Nat had said, and then refused to say more. Bruce had the feeling he was being... well, not quite punished, but Nat seemed to think he deserved to wallow through this one on his own. She was probably right about it, too. 

She was definitely right about the directions; Google Maps completely missed the turn Bruce had to make onto a long, semi-paved road that eventually turned into a driveway. Eventually a house came into view––long, two stories, with a wrap-around porch––and the lake that was clearly the reason Tony had bought the property to begin with. 

There was a single car parked in the driveway. It was a blue Audi, probably next year’s model; positively discreet for Tony. Bruce pulled in next to it and cut the engine. For a moment before he got out, he just sat and looked at the water. There was a dock and a boathouse, and a hammock hung between two trees off to the side. Two kayaks, a red and a blue, were pulled up on shore. 

It was idyllic. It was the sort of place Bruce had dreamed about ending up someday, if he was ever able to stop running. It had never occurred to him that Tony would want something similar. 

It was time to stop stalling. Bruce climbed out of the car. 

_Thwap. Thwap._

Bruce turned toward the strange sound––and found himself stuck to the driver’s side door of his own car. 

“Huh,” he said, staring down at the sticky substance pinning both his arms down.

“Don’t bother trying to break out of it,” someone said. 

Bruce tilted his head back and saw a kid, probably no more than fifteen years old, crouched at the edge of the roof of the house. “Hi there.”

“I mean it. It’s designed to hold people a lot stronger than you.”

Bruce had to smile. “Do you know who I am?”

“Dr. Bruce Banner,” the kid replied. He flipped down off the roof. Bruce stared, flummoxed by the grace and economy of movement. The kid moved like a dancer but also seemed somehow totally unaware of himself. “Yeah, I know who you are.”

Bruce tugged futilely at his wrists. “Then you know this can’t really hold me.”

The kid shrugged. “You gonna Hulk out on me?”

He sounded more interested than afraid. “Probably not,” Bruce admitted. “Still, don’t you think it’s a bit rude to glue visitors to their cars?”

“I didn’t glue a visitor. I _webbed_ an _intruder_.”

Bruce decided to leave aside the “intruder” aspect of things, at least temporarily. “Webbed?”

The kid rolled his eyes. “It’s not glue, it’s webbing. Like a spider’s web.”

“Is it?” Bruce contorted himself, trying to get a better look at it. “Fascinating. The tensile strength must really be something, you didn’t actually use very much.” He glanced up at the kid. “Did you make this?”

The kid, for all he’d obviously been trying to seem unimpressed by Bruce, looked a little red in the ears. “I made the original formula. Tony helped me improve it.”

“It’s good work, regardless. But in any case, I’m not an intruder––I’m a––a friend of your––of Tony’s.”

“Oh really?” the kid returned, frowning. “What kind of friend doesn’t come around for two years?”

“I’ve been... out of cell phone range,” Bruce said awkwardly. “Off-planet, actually. And kind of not at home in my own brain.”

The kid crossed his arms over his chest. “Try again.”

Bruce took a deep breath. “Look––what’s your name?”

“Peter,” the kid replied reluctantly. 

“Peter,” Bruce said, “I realize I’ve been a shitty friend to Tony. But I miss him, and I’d like the chance to make amends, if he’ll let me. And I’d like the chance to get to know you, too,” he added, because whoever this kid was, he was clearly now part of Tony’s life. “You seem like a smart kid.” Not just smart, but probably enhanced, if that flip down off the roof of the house was any indication.

Peter looked away for a moment, clearly thinking about it. “All right,” he finally said. “But if you make Tony sad, you’re going to have to deal with me.”

“Understood. Any chance you might, um, un-web me?”

Peter chewed on his lower lip, considering. “No, I don’t think so. I’m gonna let Tony know you’re here. You can stay right there and––and think about what you did.” This last was said decisively, as Peter crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Are you serious?” Bruce groaned. Peter scowled at him. “All right, fine. Just... don’t leave me out here too long. I stopped for coffee about fifty miles ago and I kind of have to pee.”

Peter blinked, as though it had never occurred to him that Dr. Bruce Banner _peed_. Still, he turned and headed back into the house. Bruce leaned against the car, trying to find a reasonably comfortable position. 

Of all the things Bruce had expected––and he’d imagined a range of them––he’d never imagined to find Tony Stark living in an isolated lake house with a _kid_. It was possible that he was Tony’s biological kid, from his misspent youth. They looked alike in a superficial sort of way––brown hair, brown eyes. And the kid was obviously extremely intelligent. But even if that were the case, that didn’t explain how he’d ended up here, living with Tony, when Bruce would have bet his two shirts and one pair of pants that Tony hadn’t known he existed before. 

Bruce was still mulling over the puzzle of Peter when the house’s front door opened, and Tony emerged onto the deck. He paused at the railing, staring down at Bruce. Bruce stared back, cataloguing the ways this Tony was different. His hair was grayer, and his face had a few more lines. He was wearing a hoodie and a pair of old jeans. He looked tired... but also, somehow, relaxed. At home in his own skin in a way that Bruce’s Tony had been very good at faking, but which had rarely looked this natural. 

“It really is you,” Tony said after a moment.

“It’s really me,” Bruce said. “Hi, Tony.”

“Hey Bruce.” Tony shook his head. “I thought Pete might’ve been pulling my leg, but it seemed like a pretty strange joke for him to play. I thought I might as well check it out.”

“I’m glad you did. Any chance you can unstick me here?”

“Not sure I want to,” Tony replied, folding his arms and leaning on the railing. “Hard for you to pull a disappearing act when you’re stuck to your car.”

Bruce ducked his head. “I owe you an explanation and an apology, and I promise you’ll get both.”

“Well, how can I turn that down?” Tony said. He trotted down the stairs from the porch and crossed the parking area. “Hold still,” he said, pulling a small canister out of his pocket. “This should dissolve the webbing in a minute or two.” He carefully sprayed it around Bruce’s wrists, where Peter had webbed him to the car. Within seconds, he felt the webbing start to loosen and then dissolve. 

“Thanks,” Bruce said, flicking away dissolving, foamy bits of web. 

“No problem. Sorry you didn’t get a warmer welcome.”

“It’s better than I deserve.” Bruce hesitated. “To be honest, I thought you’d be angrier.”

“Well.” Tony looked away. His face was impassive, but there was a muscle working at the corner of his jaw. “I was. When you first left, I was really angry at you.”

“And now?” Bruce asked, a small ember of hope igniting in his chest. 

Tony looked back at him. “I don’t know. A lot has changed.”

“So I gathered. I’m guessing Peter has a story?”

“He does.”

Bruce hesitated. “But he’s... is he yours?”

“In all the ways that matter,” Tony said, glancing toward the house. His eyes softened. “Biologically isn’t one of those, though, if that’s what you’re asking. Legally and... emotionally, I guess,” Tony gave a little wince, as though that still made him uncomfortable, “he’s mine. Well, we’re ours, I suppose.” 

Tony looked at Bruce again, shoulders tense. He seemed braced for a bad reaction, which made no sense at all to Bruce. “That’s great, Tony,” he said. “I’m glad.”

Tony glanced at him sharply. “Really? You think it’s great?”

“Sure.” Bruce leaned back against the car, arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“There were people who weren’t thrilled when it happened. Thought I wasn’t ready. That I was too selfish.”

Bruce frowned, offended on Tony’s behalf. “Who said that? It wasn’t Pepper, was it?”

“No. Pep was very much in favor. It was our fearless former leader.”

 _Steve_. Bruce sighed. “I see.”

“We were on the outs by then anyway, but it really rubbed salt in the wound,” Tony muttered, glancing away.

“I can imagine.” Bruce paused, studying Tony. “Tony... listen. I don’t want anything from you except a little time. I’d really like to talk. Can we do that?”

Tony glanced back at him, mouth thinning slightly. “Stay for lunch?”

Bruce let a breath out. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

***

The house was not like anything Bruce would have expected. It was spacious, but far more traditional in its decor than the tower. It had a huge sofa in the living room, a fireplace, and a kitchen was closer to rustic than modern. It also had more clutter than Bruce would have expected: jackets on hooks in the foyer, a tumble of shoes and boots at the front door, a half-built Lego model of the Starship Enterprise on the coffee table, and school books everywhere. 

Tony directed him down the hall to the bathroom. It was clearly a guest bath, with towels that Bruce recognized from Tony’s bathroom in the tower. They were still soft and luxurious but also frayed and faded. This was a different Tony, Bruce thought as he dried his hands––a Tony who was okay with things becoming a little worn out, a little imperfect. 

It actually made Bruce feel ever so slightly better about his chances. 

He left the bathroom and went back down the hallway to the kitchen, where he found Tony bent over, rummaging through the fridge. “Are you still vegetarian?” Tony asked over his shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” Bruce replieda. 

Tony stood up, a carton of eggs and a handful of plastic bags containing various vegetables in his arms. “You don’t know?”

“I haven’t been back very long, and I’ve pretty much been eating whatever I was given,” Bruce said with a shrug. “And before that, I was Hulk for two years, and he definitely is not a vegetarian.”

Tony stared. “Huh. You want to expand on any of that?”

Bruce shrugged. “Hulk stole the Quinjet––I guess you know that part. I think he felt threatened, and he felt like he had to get himself––or us, maybe––away from here. We went through a wormhole, I think, and we ended up on this kind of junkyard planet. The guy in charge made Hulk into a sort of gladiator. We were there until Thor showed up, two years later.”

Tony set everything he was carrying down on the counter. “And in all that time, you were never you?”

Bruce shook his head. “I honestly don’t remember much of it. I told Thor it was like I was locked in the trunk of a car, and Hulk was behind the wheel.” Bruce ducked his head, then raised it to look Tony in the eye. “If I had been, I would’ve tried to get back. I never wanted to leave you like that. Please believe me.”

After a moment, Tony nodded. “I do. Well... are eggs okay? How hungry are you?”

“Eggs are fine, and I’m not that hungry yet.”

“I can do a frittata then,” Tony said, and turned away to dig a glass dish out from one of the lower cabinets. “Pete never says no to one of those.”

Bruce’s eyebrows went up. “So you cook now?” 

Tony shrugged. “Not like you do, but I had to learn after the kid came to live with me. You can’t just feed teenagers pizza every night.”

“Especially not enhanced ones.”

Tony looked at Bruce sharply. “So you figured that out already.”

Bruce shrugged. “He basically backflipped off the roof of the house.”

Tony rolled his eyes to the heavens. “God help me. I keep telling him to be careful, but he is just so fucking reckless with his own safety.”

“Are you sure he isn’t biologically yours?” Bruce teased him. “Because that sounds an awful lot like someone else I know.”

“I think it’s pretty fundamental to anyone who ends up deciding to be a superhero,” Tony muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “You need to be missing a self-preservation instinct to think that it’s your job to go out and right all the wrongs of the world. Even more so to do it in your pajamas.”

“Pajamas?” 

Tony waved his hand. “Never mind, obviously I fixed that. Anyway, speaking of the Spiderkid––FRIDAY, can you tell Peter that lunch will be ready in an hour?”

“Yes, boss,” a disembodied, female voice said, from what looked like an entirely normal bluetooth speaker on the end of the counter.

“Where is he, anyway?” Tony asked.

“The garage.”

“He’s all right?”

“His vital signs are within normal parameters.”

“Great, thanks, FRI.” 

“Who was that?” Bruce asked. 

Tony blinked at him. “God, I’d almost forgotten how long you’d been gone. That’s FRIDAY, JARVIS’s repl––successor.” 

“Oh.” Bruce hesitated. “Nice to meet you, FRIDAY,” he finally offered. 

“It’s my pleasure, Dr. Banner.”

Tony surveyed everything on the counter, then shoved a bell pepper and an onion in Bruce’s direction. “Can you finely chop those?”

“Sure,” Bruce said, accepting the vegetables along with a chopping board and a knife. He set to work. “I’ve missed this,” he said after a moment. “Cooking.”

“Mmm.” Tony looked up from cracking his tenth egg into a large mixing bowl. “I still have dreams about your vindaloo.”

Bruce felt strangely validated. “I could make it for you and Peter sometime. If you wanted.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Tony dumped the egg carton full of shells into the garbage and pulled a carton of milk out of the fridge. “You’re staying at the compound?” Bruce nodded. “Did Thor come with you?”

“No, Thor had quite a bit to deal with on Asgard. He had Heimdall send me back.”

“I’m glad,” Tony said, not looking up from whisking the eggs. “It’s good to see you. I’ve missed you.”

Bruce’s vision was suddenly blurry. He had to put the knife down and sit in one of the kitchen chairs, overwhelmed by a surge of emotion that threatened to pull him under entirely. “I thought you’d be so angry at me,” he managed, voice breaking. “I thought for sure––I just _left_ you––”

“Bruce...” Tony was right in front of him, crouching down. 

“And we were––and I know that it’s so hard for you to trust people,” Bruce said, avoiding Tony’s gaze. “And after I heard what happened with Steve––goddammit, I’m so sorry, Tony. I wish I’d been here. I really wish I’d been here.”

“Shit, Bruce.” Tony leaned forward to hug him. Bruce stiffened, but Tony held on firmly. After a few seconds, Bruce relaxed into it, pressing his face into Tony’s shoulder. “I wish you’d been there, too. Maybe you could’ve helped us find a better way.”

“Maybe,” Bruce replied dubiously. He took a deep breath, breathing in Tony’s scent. He usually smelled of motor oil and Tom Ford cologne and something that was uniquely Tony, but today there was something missing. “You don’t wear cologne anymore?”

Tony huffed a quiet laugh. He sat back. “Gave it up when we moved out here. Didn’t seem to be much point.”

“I guess not.”

Tony held his gaze. Bruce swallowed. “Tell you what,” Tony said. “Let’s have lunch––you and me and Peter, all right? Afterward, maybe I can show you around the property and we can talk.”

“I’d like that.” 

“Me too.” Tony stood up, grimacing as his knees popped audibly. “Not a fucking word, Banner,” he said, pointing at Bruce. 

Bruce smiled, lightheaded with relief and the overwhelming feeling of––maybe––being forgiven. “I would never.”

***

Peter still hadn’t appeared by the time lunch was ready. Tony went to get him, leaving Bruce to set the table. He did it as best he could. When Tony and Peter still hadn’t come back, he covered the frittata with tin foil and decided to take a spin around the living room and dining room. 

There were a few pieces of artwork that Bruce recognized from before. A statue in the corner, a painting of a landscape, a portrait of Tony’s mother. But there were far more photos than Bruce had expected––photos of Tony and his mother that Bruce had never seen, and of Rhodey and Pepper and Happy with Tony. There were photos of Peter and Tony, and of Peter with people Bruce didn’t know. His family, he guessed, before whatever had happened for him to end up with Tony. 

He set a photo of Tony and Peter down hastily when he heard Tony and Peter climbing the porch stairs. One of the living room windows was cracked open, and their voices floated through. Bruce went still, curious beyond measure about this new, parental version of Tony, who had family photos on his walls and a linear algebra textbook on his coffee table. 

_“I just don’t get it. He disappeared on you. How can you be okay with that?”_

_“I’m not okay with it, but it wasn’t his fault. He’s my friend, all right? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly up to my neck in those.”_

_“He’s your friend. Really? That’s what you’re going with?”_

There was a pause. _“Who told you?_

_“No one. I figured it out.”_

Tony snorted. _“Yeah, you definitely did not just figure it out. Was it Natasha? It was Natasha, wasn’t it?”_

_“Maybe. Not sure why it was a secret, anyway.”_

_“It wasn’t a secret, not really. We were just... discreet. Bruce is a private guy. Anyway, that’s not the point––the point is that he was my friend before he was anything else, and I’m glad my friend is back. I’d appreciate it if you would be nice to him over lunch.”_

_“I guess I can do that.”_

_“Thank you.”_

They moved toward the door. Bruce hastily took three steps toward the kitchen, hands behind his back, trying to look as though he hadn’t been snooping. 

Peter trailed behind Tony as they came in. They both took their shoes off in the foyer, and Peter stripped out of his jacket. 

Bruce kept an eye on the two of them as Tony dug out the salad tongs Bruce hadn’t been able to find. Peter was quiet, though he’d been chatty enough earlier with Bruce. He definitely wasn’t afraid of Bruce the way some people were, but he tracked Tony almost anxiously whenever he was more than four or five feet away. 

Bruce thought about all the people in the pictures with Peter. People who weren’t here anymore. Empty chairs at empty tables. 

Tony, in turn, was demonstrative and almost gentle with Peter. An arm around the shoulder. Ruffled hair. Teasing that lacked any kind of edge to it. It was a side of Tony that Bruce wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. It was... disarming 

“So, Bruce,” Tony said, once they were all seated and had dished themselves up, “you hinted at big adventures on other planets but you kind of glossed over the details. What’ve you and the Big Guy been up to?”

It was a softball question, meant to make Bruce look cool to Peter. He didn’t expect it to work, but he decided he might as well swing at it. “Well, like I said, I don’t remember much,” Bruce replied ruefully. “But we were on a junkyard planet called Sakaar for a couple of years.”

“Did you meet any aliens?” Peter asked, sounding interested despite himself.

“A few.”

“What were they like?”

Bruce gave it some thought while he chewed his first bite of frittata. For all that Tony had claimed not to be a great cook, it was surprisingly delicious. 

“They were remarkably like people,” he finally said. “Some of them were good. Some of them––a lot of them––weren’t. The rich hoarded power and wealth, and the poor just tried to get by. It wasn’t a glamorous place. Hulk liked it because it was straightforward, I think. Anyone who wanted to kill us was just going to do it to our face.”

“Oh.” Peter looked disappointed, as though he’d expected more from space. 

Bruce searched for something to say. “Are you interested in space exploration?” he finally asked. 

“I don’t know,” Peter said with a shrug. “I like math and science. But I like looking out for the little guy, too, and it seems like it’s hard to do that from space. You get up high enough, everything just blurs together.”

“That’s true,” Bruce said. He glanced at Tony and found him watching Peter with an almost painfully fond expression. 

No one said anything for a bit. Bruce ate some of his salad and tried not to let the awkwardness get to him. This was going to take time, he reminded himself. He’d blown up his life––well, Hulk had, anyway. Some awkwardness was a small price to pay for getting some semblance of it back. 

To Bruce’s surprise, Peter was the next to speak. “But you’re back for good now?” he asked. “You’re not leaving again?”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere,” Bruce said, with as much sincerity as he could muster. 

Peter frowned. “You didn’t plan on it last time, either.”

“No, I didn’t,” Bruce admitted. 

“So how do we know you won’t leave again?”

Bruce paused. He glanced at Tony, but Tony didn’t say a word. No quarter there. “I have every intention of staying.”

“Lots of people intend to stay and leave anyway,” Peter replied, sounding almost weary. “How do we know you won’t?”

Bruce actually gave it some thought, because he sensed that Peter wasn’t being difficult. He wasn’t trying to trick Bruce. He was being protective, of himself and of Tony, and Bruce couldn’t fault him for that. “I suppose you can’t. Life is unpredictable. I think you understand that better than a lot of people your age do.”

Peter nodded, looking down at his plate. Tony reached over and squeezed his shoulder. 

“But what I can say is this,” Bruce said. Peter looked up. “I came back because this is where I want to be. If I leave, it won’t be because I want to.”

Peter looked far from satisfied. But when Bruce glanced over at Tony, he was almost smiling. 

***

The rest of lunch still had its moments of awkwardness, but eventually Tony managed to get Peter talking about his web formula, and that occupied them all until they were done eating. Peter ate at least as much as Tony and Bruce put together, Bruce noted, and added _enhanced metabolism_ to his mental list of Peter’s powers. 

After lunch, Peter went to his room to do homework. Bruce helped Tony do the dishes. “So, Peter’s a genius,” Bruce said, after a minute or two of sudsy silence. 

Tony nodded. “Pretty much. When he was living in the city, he went to a STEM magnet school. Top five percent of his class. When we moved up here, we had to find an online option, because it was clear that the local public school wasn’t going to cut it. They don’t even offer AP classes. But I pulled a few strings and managed to get him into an online high school for gifted students.”

Bruce dried a plate and put it in the rack to dry. “Why did you move up here?”

Tony shook his head. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

Tony glanced over his shoulder toward the stairs. “Not here,” he said, very quietly. And then, in a normal voice, “Let’s finish these up and then I can show you around.”

By the time the dishes were done, Bruce had figured it out. “Enhanced hearing?” he asked, once they’d left the house to head down toward the lake. 

“Yep. He can hear anything in the house. It’s a real pain in the ass.”

Bruce laughed. “I have to say,” he said, as they arrived at the dock, “this is just about the last thing I would have expected. But the two of you fit so well together.”

Tony shaded his eyes, looking out at the water. “It wasn’t easy at the beginning. It took a lot of work and time. But now... yeah, we do fit. Anyway, this is the boat house.”

Bruce glanced around, taking in the kayaks and the life jackets and the actual boat, floating just feet away. “I see that.”

“Smart ass. Come on, there’s the trail that goes around the lake.” 

Tony led him down off the dock to the shore. Bruce noticed once again the hammock swinging gently between two trees, and for a second or two allowed himself to imagine lying in it on a sunny afternoon with a book. He stopped himself quickly enough, though. He hoped this wouldn’t be his last visit to the lake house, but it was presumptuous to imagine that Tony and Peter might allow him to make himself at home here in any way. Nor did he deserve to. 

They went past the hammock and picked up a trail. Bruce picked up the pace so the two of them were walking side-by-side. He let his shoulder brush Tony’s companionably. 

“I met Peter because I was keeping tabs on a small-time enhanced vigilante in Queens named Spiderman,” Tony said, after two or three minutes of walking in silence. “It didn’t take me long to figure out that Spiderman was a fourteen-year-old kid named Peter Parker. And then it didn’t take me long to recruit him to my side in the fight against Steve. That was... not my proudest moment. I was desperate, but it still wasn’t right. As Steve reminded me, once he realized who Peter was.”

Bruce didn’t say anything. 

“After that––well, I was kind of fucked in the head. Definitely not in the right place to be a decent mentor. So I wasn’t. For months. Which I’m still mad at myself about, but he isn’t, for some reason. Eventually the shit hit the fan in the form of an airplane full of my stuff getting hijacked. Peter saved the day, and I finally got my head out of my ass.”

Hypocritical though it was, Bruce had never liked how self-deprecating Tony could be. “I’m sure you were doing your best,” he said quietly. 

Tony snorted. “Well, my best wasn’t great at the time. It got better though. I’d moved up to the compound by then. I started having him up, to train and play around in the lab. We got pretty close.” He stopped. Bruce waited, but Tony didn’t continue. 

They rounded a bend in the path and came upon a little clearing with a picnic table. Tony hopped up so he was sitting on the table with his feet on the bench, facing out toward the lake. Bruce climbed up next to him. They could just see the house from here––the boat house, the dock, and the two cars parked out front. There was a rope swing further down the shoreline, Bruce noticed. Everything about it felt so comfortable. So _domestic_.

“Peter’s parents died when he was four, in a plane crash,” Tony finally said, startling Bruce out of his thoughts. “His uncle died when he was fourteen, in an armed robbery, right after Peter got his powers. His aunt died six months ago of a brain aneurysm.”

Bruce had known there had to have been a litany of tragedy for Peter to end up with Tony, but hearing it laid out like that was still awful. “Shit.”

“Yep.” Tony took a deep breath. “He called me from the hospital. I went and got him. My lawyers started working on guardianship the next day.”

Tony was leaving a lot out, Bruce was certain. He could barely imagine what those first few days must have been like. “How’d you end up here?”

Tony sighed. “Peter loves Queens. It’s his home, and I’d sold the tower anyway, so I bought a penthouse in Astoria. We tried to make it work. But he was––God, Bruce, he was a mess. And he kept going out as Spiderman, no matter how many times I told him––ordered him, _begged_ him––not to. He ended up getting hurt a lot, because his head wasn’t in the game. I got so mad a couple of times, but really I was just––fuck, I was _terrified_.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I really wish you’d been there, then. Or anyone, really, but especially you.”

Bruce blinked. “Why me?”

“Because you’re just... you’re so calm, Bruce. I know, I know you’ve had to be,” Tony added, before Bruce could object, “but in a bad situation, you’re just... you’re like deep water. I could swim in your calm. There were so many times when I wished you were there to put an arm around my shoulders or to hold me at the end of the night.” 

Tony’s voice cracked, and Bruce’s heart cracked with it. “Can I do that now?” 

Tony visibly hesitated before nodding. Bruce put his arm around Tony’s shoulders, and Tony leaned into him, letting their heads knock together. “So one night,” he said, forehead pressed to Bruce’s temple, “Peter comes home with a goddamn knife wound. I stitched him up and put him to bed, and then I just... I lost it. I thought I was going to lose him, and I wasn’t sure I’d get through if I did.

“He heard me, of course, because he hears fucking everything. I was sitting on the bathroom floor, blubbering like a baby, and he sat down next to me. I think he was crying, too. And he said, ‘I know I shouldn’t go out, but I hear people getting hurt, and I can’t stay away. Every person I help is someone else’s Uncle Ben or Aunt May, and I don’t want anyone else to feel like this if I can prevent it.’”

“Damn,” Bruce breathed. 

“I know, right?” Tony pulled a few inches away and shook his head. “Pete is... he’s something else. Yeah, he’s strong and he’s smart but mostly he’s just so fucking _good_ , it almost kills me.” He let out a shuddering sigh. “Anyway, the next weekend I rented this place to get us out of the city. He loved it. He was... he was himself, for the first time in months.” He sniffed and straightened up. “So I made the owner an offer he couldn’t refuse. We’ve been here ever since.”

Bruce was silent for a moment, watching the play of light on the water, feeling the warmth of Tony at his side. Tony had always struggled with accepting physical affection before. Sex was one thing; simple, animal comfort was something else. Bruce had nearly had him accustomed to it when he’d left, but it had taken two years for him to scale those walls. It seemed Peter had just crashed right through them. 

“I wish I’d been here,” Bruce finally said. “For both of you.”

“Me too.”

Bruce swallowed, his mouth dry with nerves. “Is it... it seems like maybe it’s not... entirely too late?”

Tony turned and looked at him. “No. Not entirely.”

“I still love you,” Bruce said, arm tightening around Tony’s shoulders. 

Tony smiled at him. It was almost but not quite a patented Tony Stark flirtatious smirk. “I know you do.”

Bruce blinked. “Was that... a _Star Wars_ reference?”

Tony snorted. “God help me, it was.”

Bruce chuckled. “Peter?”

Tony shook his head ruefully. “Peter. The kid’s corrupted me. I can quote whole _Star Wars_ movies and particular episodes of both _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ and the _Queer Eye_ reboot.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows. “They rebooted _Queer Eye_?”

“Yeah. It’s not bad. I think you’ll really like it. In all seriousness, though,” Tony looked at him seriously, “I know you love me. But it’s not just me anymore.”

“I know.” Bruce met his gaze. “And I’d really like the chance to get to know both of you better. I’m happy to go at your speed, whatever that is. And even if we never get back to where we were... Tony, I’m just so damn glad you don’t hate me.”

Tony shook his head. “What can I say? I’ve gone soft.”

“It’s a good look on you.”

For the first time all day, Tony seemed at a loss for words. He even turned a bit pink, to Bruce’s surprise. After a moment, he slid off the picnic table and offered Bruce his hand. “Come on. Let’s head back.”

***

The sun was going down by the time they arrived back at the house. “I should probably get going,” Bruce said reluctantly, pausing by his car.

“Why? You got something you need to get back for?”

He shook his head. “No, but I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Not sure Peter is totally persuaded about me yet.”

“Maybe not,” Tony conceded. “Well, wait here and let me go get him. He doesn’t like it when people leave without saying good-bye.”

Bruce didn’t think it could possibly matter that much to Peter, but the last thing he wanted to do was upset him. Tony jogged up the stairs and into the house. Bruce leaned against the car while he waited. The sun was sinking over the lake. There was a light, insect hum in the air, and the air smelled wet and organic. There was a single light over the driveway down to the road, but no other lights anywhere at all. 

Bruce knew, deep in his marrow, that this was a place he could be happy. He didn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t even allow himself to want it. But he knew it. The knowledge tightened his chest and his throat. He yearned for the peaceful, domestic life Tony and Peter had built here. He ached with longing for it, even though he knew it wasn’t for him. 

He was still staring at the water when he heard the front door open. Tony and Peter came down the stairs. Tony had his arm slung casually over Peter’s shoulders and was smiling, looking pleased with himself for some reason. 

“Enjoying the view?” Tony asked, nodding toward the lake. 

Bruce gave a long sigh. “It’s really something.”

“It’s my favorite place in the world,” Peter declared. “I used to think I was a city person, but it turns out that I’m kind of... not. Not anymore, at least.”

Bruce forced himself to turn away from the water, back to Tony and Peter. “Well, I should go. It was really nice to meet you, Peter.”

“It was nice to meet you, too, Dr. Banner,” Peter said. “But, um... you don’t have to go yet if you don’t want to.” 

“I appreciate that, but it’s getting late, and I’d rather not drive these roads in the dark.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Peter said, glancing at Tony. 

“What Peter meant was that we’d like to ask you to stay for a few days,” Tony said.

Bruce thought he must have misheard. “What?”

“You should stay for a few days,” Tony said. “If you want. You seem to like it here, and we like having you.”

“You... do?” Bruce said, looking at Peter. 

Peter shrugged. “You turn Tony into kind of a dope––”

“Excuse you,” Tony said, with no real heat.

“––and he says you haven’t seen any _Queer Eye_ or any of the new _Star Wars_ movies, and obviously we can’t let _that_ slide. Plus,” Peter looked away, scuffing his toe awkwardly, “you had some pretty good ideas about how to improve my web fluid.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Well, thanks. But like I said, I don’t want to wear out my welcome––”

“Stay, Bruce,” Tony said, in a quiet, even tone that was familiar and foreign at the same time. A familiar voice in an unfamiliar register. “Just for a few days. We want you to.”

Bruce glanced at Peter again, still not convinced that he really wanted him to. But Peter was watching him, his face open and relaxed, not pinched, not avoiding Bruce’s gaze. 

Maybe, just this once, it was okay to accept forgiveness when it was offered. Maybe, just this once, he didn’t have to repent again and again. And maybe, this time, he’d be allowed to keep the peace and happiness he found. Bruce doubted it, if he was honest with himself, but it didn’t matter; he was too weak to say no. 

“Okay,” Bruce said, voice weaker than he’d intended. He cleared his throat. “That sounds good.”

“Great.” Tony let go of Peter and clapped Bruce on the shoulders. “Now, you are going to have to earn your keep.”

“Uh, sure.” Bruce glanced at Peter, who was grinning. “How so?”

“Well, we were thinking you could take over with Gerald.”

Bruce raised his eyebrows. “Who’s Gerald?”

Peter brightened. “Gerald’s great––” 

“Actually, he’s terrible––” Tony interjected. 

“––really friendly, he just didn’t like the petting zoo we rescued him from very much––”

“––total pain in ass––”

“––he’s just kind of particular––”

“––I had no idea an animal could be so _judgey_ ––”

“Stop!” Bruce yelped. “What is Gerald?”

Tony grinned. “I’m going to let Pete introduce you while I go make the pizza dough. Pizza okay for dinner, Bruce?”

“Yeah, of course,” Bruce said, now eyeing Peter warily. Peter was practically beaming, and Bruce was frankly suspicious of how much the kid was enjoying himself.

“Great. Be nice,” Tony added to Peter, and then mounted the steps toward the house. 

Bruce looked at Peter. Peter looked at Bruce.

“I’m not going to apologize for webbing you to your car,” Peter finally said. 

“I won’t ask you to.”

“Good.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest. “Tony said he told you everything, and I just want you to know––I don’t want your pity. People look at me and they think, ‘Poor Peter Parker, orphaned twice over. ’I can’t stand it, so just don’t.”

“I won’t.” Bruce looked away briefly, then forced himself to look back at Peter. “My childhood wasn’t anything to write home about. It wasn’t the same as what happened to you, but I know what you mean about pity. I don’t pity you.”

“Good.” Peter took a deep breath. “One more thing. I meant what I said before. If you make Tony sad, you’ll have to deal with me. And I’m not afraid of the Hulk. In fact, I’m pretty sure I could take him if I had to.”

It was hard to imagine, looking at Peter; he didn’t carry his enhancements obviously, like Steve did. But Bruce thought it was in his best interest not to argue. “I’d rather not test that theory.”

“Me neither. So don’t make Tony sad.”

“I’ll do my best,” Bruce said. “I want Tony to be happy just as much as you do, Peter.”

Peter nodded, looking down at the ground. “I think that’s true. That’s why I said yes if Tony asked if you could stay with us for a while.”

“Thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt. I know I haven’t earned it.”

“No, but sometimes... sometimes we take a leap of faith because the people we love need us to. Tony did that for me when he picked me up at the hospital that night.” Peter looked down and scuffed his shoe on the ground again. “I can do that for him.”

“I think this is a leap of faith for all of us,” Bruce said. “All together. I don’t know about you, but knowing that makes me feel a little bit better.”

Peter looked up, meeting Bruce’s eyes. He nodded. 

“Good,” Bruce said, taking a deep breath. “Now, lead on. Introduce me to this Gerald.”

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Want to see more in this universe? Feel free to leave me a prompt (but if you do, please also say something about this story!)
> 
> Stay safe and be well, friends!


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